


The First Time Ever

by nbarker1990



Category: The Voice (US) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 18:38:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8544709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nbarker1990/pseuds/nbarker1990
Summary: "And the first time ever I lay with you, I felt your heart so close to mineAnd I knew our joy would fill the earth, and last 'till the end of time, my love..."





	

**I LIKE YOU**

You’d always been taught not to judge a book by its cover nor a person by their reputation, but it’s something that comes easily and naturally. She’s no exception.

“I’ve hung out with the guys in the band a few times, but we didn’t really talk about her, y’know. I’m sure it’ll be great,” Adam had said in a phone call to him immediately after finding out. “She’ll like _me_ , at least.”

“No doubt,” you’d retorted, hanging up as your friend had cursed you out.

Now she’s kneeling down next to one of the couches, rummaging through a bag that looks like something out of Mary Poppins. She’s still as put together as the day you’d first exchanged ‘hellos’ with her, but her smile is a little more brittle, her hair a little less perfect. It’s endearing in an odd sort of way, as is the way she doesn’t wave you off or ignore you when you ask if you can help at all.

“Go ahead,” Gwen says, not taking her eyes off the contents of the bag. “Apollo’s screaming murder and I thought I’d brought his favorite bear but I can’t find it. I mean, I literally turned my trailer upside down, and they just let me see it for the first time this morning.” Her hands (slim, long fingers, lots of rings) settle for a moment and she turns, looking up at him. “Sorry. I don’t mean to complain, y’know. I just wanted things to go well today.”

“They’re going well for me,” you say, surprising even yourself, because that’s the wrong answer and you know it. Tilting her head, a small smile turns the corners of her lips up and you’re struck by how she’s even prettier when she does so. “Getting to talk to you,” you add, forging ahead, because what the hell. “I like you, Gwen.”

She ducks her head, and if she were anyone else, you’d say you’d left her lost for words. She clears her throat, and you find yourself kneeling down beside her, your shoulder almost bumping against hers.

“So what color is this bear we’re looking for, then?”

 

** I MISS YOU **

You'd thought you'd gotten used to sleeping alone throughout your marriage, but it feels different now, knowing you'll never wake up in the middle of the night with _her_ in your arms again. She'd always been the woman you'd first fallen in love with when it came to those nights, curling up against your body, her small hands clinging to you like you were the center of her universe. 

You hadn't been, of course. You know that now, learned it the hard way. 

Rolling over, you bury your head in the gap between your pillow and hers, squeezing your eyes shut so you don't have to see the small tear in the sheet. You'd teased her about that one incessantly, asked her if she was planning on wrecking ALL their belongings with her ridiculously sharp nails. She'd found it funny at the time, but you'd noticed them all bitten down to the skin a week later. 

Reaching for your phone, you wonder whether you should - The screen lights up. Gwen. 

_Hey cowboy. Hadnt heard from you today. Just checkin in. :) Gx_

And is it weird that a simple message makes your eyes water, makes you want to maybe even weep a little? Christ almighty, you've been a little girl lately. She's been sending you photos all week from the ranch in Montana where she and her sons are staying and it's made you miss Tish and her in equal parts. 

_Hey back. Sorry for not texting. Mood pretty low today. Hope u and the boys are having fun and nobody fell off that giant horse. B._

You'd realized very early on that Gwen prized honesty more than almost any quality and with your own recent experiences, you're kind of on the same page.  So yeah, sometimes their e-mail exchanges are pity parties, and sometimes they just get on the phone to cry about how things went to shit. It's strangely helpful and freeing, and if anyone had told you a year ago that you'd know more about Gwen Stefani's private life than nearly anyone outside her own immediately family, you would've laughed right in their faces. 

_Sending you hugs. Gx_

_I miss them, yknow._ You hesitate, before writing what you're really feeling. _I miss YOU. A lot._

 

** I WANT YOU **

Gwen looks nervous when she finally opens the door to you, and you're not sure if you want to reassure her or just join her. Because hell, your own stomach has been slightly churned up all day and looking at her now (her hair's down and loose, and you just want to bury your nose in the crook of her neck and take a deep breath), that feeling's only getting worse. You'd gotten a text from her in the morning, a short and sweet _'we need to talk. tonight?'_ and ever since, you've been wondering if this is it, hoping, hoping, hoping that it is. 

She reaches out her hand, and you find yourself laughing in disbelief. No, they've gone way beyond that. "Blake..." she says on a shake exhale as you step forward, wrap your arms around her so tightly that you're surprised she can say anything at all. "You came."

"Of course." You stand with her in the entrance for long moments, minutes maybe, and it's a wrenching loss when she finally steps back and closes the door, indicating for you to come into her house. You've seen photos before but this is really the first time you've had a chance to take everything in. It's _her_. Of course it is. Loud colors, photos of her babies everywhere, striking patterns that before you met her, you would've said clashed horribly, but now seem sort of _right_. 

"Nice," you say approvingly, slowing your steps so she's right beside you. 

That's where you want her. Or under you, frankly. That would work, too. You swallow, trying to bury the thoughts. Whatever is happening with her is still ridiculously fragile and a few weeks of baring your souls to each other, of learning each other and even some flirting, doesn't necessarily mean she's ready for more than whatever this is right now. 

"The boys with your ex?"

She makes a face, and it's a painful combination of loss and anger. It makes you want to hit the fucker right in the face, but you're not sure that would exactly help the situation. "Yeah," she admits. "At least it means we can spend time here, though? It's quiet without them." Once again, her strength, her optimism, blows you away and you tell her so, taking her hands in yours and making sure she's watching your face so she knows how sincere you are. 

"Trust me," you say. "You can trust me," you promise. 

"I want to," Gwen says, and you take a deep breath as she steps forward, so close that you can feel her breasts against your chest, that she can no doubt feel your hardening cock against her. She doesn't move, though, doesn't retreat. Shakily, her hand comes up to your face, strokes the scruff along your jaw. Her fingers are soft and her touch is gentle. She's acting _sure,_ and you want to laugh from relief.

"I want you," you tell her, chasing the desire in her eyes with your own. 

****

** I LOVE YOU **

"How quickly things turn around," your Mom had said only last night on the phone, listening to the endless, enthusiastic comments about Gwen. "I'm happy for you, son."

And that's the key word, really. It's not that you've never been happy before, that you hadn't been extremely happy with Miranda, for example, but the ease of what you have with Gwen, the confidence being gained day by day in the relationship? It's precious and you won't give it up without a fight. Adam had laughed right in your face the other day and threatened the smack the smug grin off your face, and you can't blame the guy, really. 

She's still dozing, her body bared to the day and her hair tied back in a loose knot, and you're pretty sure you could watch her like this all day. The first night she'd stayed over, you'd found yourself unable to sleep, and while you've both gotten a little more used to it, there are times when you feel like you're living in some sort of bizarre dream. Her breath becomes shallower and you find yourself smiling as she begins waking up. If it wasn't for the fact that she has three young boys, you're pretty sure she'd rarely get up before midday, because the grumbling and snuffles and burrowing into him are becoming routine now. 

"Gonna get up, beautiful?" you whisper, and she smacks your chest half-heartedly before pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek. "I'll even get your tea for you."

"Right this time?" she murmurs huskily, cracking open an eye and looking at you skeptically. "Last time I had to dump the whole cup down the sink, y'know."

"Greedy."

"Greedy would be what I actually _want_ to do right now, babe," she says, one of her hands trailing down your body, her nails lightly scoring your skin. "Mmm, just wanna stay here forever."

"Your sons might miss you."

Rolling her eyes, she pats the bed affectionately. "Plenty of room. I'll borrow one of your shirts, you can wear another, and they can join us."

And maybe you're going mad, because actually, the idea is sounding more appealing the longer you think about it. Gwen's fingers find your cock, give an experimental tug, and all thoughts fly out of mind. Laughing, you lift her onto your body, a hand on her ass to keep her in place. "You're evil, I swear."

"So we can stay here forever, then?" Her smile is so genuine, so guileless, and the idea that you have something to do with that makes your heart beat so fast, you have to try and slow his breathing down. You've known for awhile now that you want this, want everything with her, and god, maybe you should just -

"I love you, you know," she says softly, one of her hands coming up to rest on your heart. "I didn't mean to, but I do. So much."

"I wanted to say it first," you say, pouting a little, because as much gravity as this moment has, it also deserves to be celebrated with laughter. Her love (not the love of a friend or a colleague but LOVE, the type Nat King Cole had sung about all those years ago) wasn't a guaranteed thing, wasn't a foregone conclusion, and you want to kiss her for being so brave. You card your fingers through her hair, let them come to rest on the nape of her neck as you lean up for a kiss. "I love you, too."


End file.
